


A Hot Desert Night

by mysterymeat666



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: I'm not even touching Uprising so don't even worry about it, M/M, Online Friends to Enemies to FBI partners to lovers, Slow Burn, The X-Files AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-04-30 02:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14486403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterymeat666/pseuds/mysterymeat666
Summary: Dr. Geiszler is a manic, free spirited cryptozoologist making a fine mess of his life before he joins Stacker Pentacost’s Unexplained Events Department in the FBI. Dr. Gottlieb, a computer scientist turned counterintelligence agent, is an unlikely presence at the fringe of his life: a strange friend from a strange relationship that went sour the moment they actually met.Under the orders of Marshal Pentecost and Lieutenant Hansen, Geiszler and Gottlieb are tasked with the FBI’s clandestine X-Files.





	1. A Strange Friend for Strange Men

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Uprising stirred some intense feelings, so I'm writing after a three year hiatus.  
> As the description stated, this is an X-Files AU, and just as a note: this chapter and the next one will have chat logs and receipts and such included, but the rest will not. 
> 
> Enjoy! (and as always, I don't own a thing)

      3/16/06 11:13pm

 **kaijublue** : hey

 **kaijublue** : love your username :^)

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Thank you. Does yours mean something?

 **kaijublue** : yeah dude, like you know kaijus? like monsters in japan

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Monsters?

 **kaijublue** : godzilla dude, hes my favorite

 **kaijublue** : you got a favorite?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : A favourite monster? Why would I have one?

 **kaijublue** : ummmm why wouldnt you? monsters are sick

 **turingtestedandapproved** : And why do you care? I don’t even know you.

 **kaijublue** : Hi, my name is Newt, I’m 23, and I’m a zoologist in America.

 **kaijublue** : now you know me

 **kaijublue** : favorite monster?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Hermann, 23, computer scientist in London

 **turingtestedandapproved** : I don’t have one.

 **kaijublue** : aw come on, man, youve gotta have one

 **turingtestedandapproved** : I’ve never thought about it.

 **kaijublue** : should i guess??

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Go ahead and try.

 **kaijublue** : mothman

 **turingtestedandapproved** : No.

 **kaijublue** : the thing?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : No. But that’s a good movie.

 **kaijublue** : right dude? classic!

 **kaijublue** : you like horror movies?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : I like them well enough.

 **turingtestedandapproved** : More of a science fiction fan, myself.

 **kaijublue** : oh shit me too!

 **kaijublue** : trek or wars?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : As in Star Trek and Star Wars?

 **kaijublue** : um of course dude!

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Star Trek, of course.

 **kaijublue** : hell yeah man!! i dont know about you, but next gen is better than the original

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Couldn’t agree more! Data was my favorite character.

 **kaijublue** : hahaha i could tell, my man

 **kaijublue** : wait

 **kaijublue** : waiiiiiiit

 **turingtestedandapproved** : What?

 **kaijublue** : your favorite monster is toooootally Agent Smith

                      Seen at 11:46

 **kaijublue** : oh man dude i totally got you

* * *

          RECEIPT FOR: GEISZLER, N

          CARD NUMBER: **** **** **** 8103

          Minneapolis Holiday Service Station 012

                     04/14/06

MTN DEW ………………………………………… 1.49

BUGLES, ORG ……………………………..  .99

AMERICAN SPIRIT …………………………….. 6.99

 

          RECEIPT FOR: GOTTLIEB, H

          CARD NUMBER: **** **** **** 6522

          Mayfair Bodega 044

                    04/15/06

COFFEE, REG …...……………………   .99

AMERICAN SPIRIT …………………………….. 6.02

AMERICAN SPIRIT …………………………….. 6.02

 

 

           04/14/06 11:30pm

 **turingtestedandapproved** : How are you, Newton?

 **kaijublue** : oh shit hey man!!

 **kaijublue** : yeah im good dude

 **kaijublue** what are you doing up so late?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Early, Newton.

 **kaijublue** : ohhhh shit dude, right

 **turingtestedandapproved** : What are you doing up this late?

 **kaijublue** : well i just kind of got to the twin cities and im sleeping here tonight until i can finish the drive up north

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Why are you in Minnesota?

 **kaijublue** : wendigo hunting man, im meeting a guy up in white bear and im gonna try to find one for real

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Newton.

 **kaijublue** : yeah?

 **kaijublue** : hey wait man, aren’t you defending your thesis today?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : I am.

           04/15/06 12:00am

 **turingtestedandapproved** : I can’t believe you remembered.

 **kaijublue** : of course!!! good luck man!

 **kaijublue** : 4:30, right?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Yes. You have a great memory.

 **kaijublue** : riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight, im totally not wigged out on caffeine right now

 **kaijublue** : good luck man, youre gonna kill it :^)

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Thank you, Newton.

* * *

 

Hermann settled between two raised reliefs beside the archway to the auditorium, inhaling his sixth cigarette of the day. He hunched his shoulders inward to fit and hide himself from the other students filling out into the street. Muscle memory took over and his arms crossed over his chest, tucking himself away with a clandestine cigarette and feelings of shame. He was suddenly in secondary school again smoking and writing angry letters to his father that he never sent. An unruly mix of anger and hormones and living with all men all the time left a hot feeling on his face when he thought about boys. Not a menagerie of random faces and bodies, but Newton, his newfound friend.

He had no face to think of, or a body, or even a voice, but he had a pattern of speech and punctuation that Hermann could predict with near certainty. Newt was excitable, his brain active and eclectic. While his speech was predictable, Hermann could never guess the next thing he would say. Today's messages were anything but expected, both the idea of wendigo hunting and Newton's encouragement. He would never admit to the enjoyment he felt, but it was enough to make him smile before taking another drag. Even today.

          RECEIPT FOR: GOTTLIEB, H

          CARD NUMBER: **** **** **** 6522

          University Street Wines

                    04/15/06

FRANZIA, MERLOT …...…………  10.00

 

Newt sat cross legged on the balcony of the apartment he was renting for the night in Minneapolis. It wasn’t the romantic balcony he had been envisioning when responding to the Craigslist ad and the second floor of the squat concrete building didn’t stand more than eight feet off the ground. His “urban view”, as his subletter put it, afforded him a night of staring at a shitty parking lot for admittedly really fucking good Ethiopian restaurant. His face was bathed in a warm red light from the streetlights as he stretched out on the concrete floor with a cigarette between his lips.

Bronson had bailed on him and he wasn’t about to go wendigo hunting alone off a reservation he didn’t know the borders of. He had dragged his ass out here hyped up on a heart stopping amount of coffee and carcinogens for no reason. Newt couldn’t even get mad about that. He didn’t have anywhere to get back to. If he wanted, he could stay there in that craigslist apartment on the Mississippi for as long as he wanted. If anything, Newt was angry that Bronson had bailed on his one and only commitment, leaving him grasping for purchase on a concrete balcony dangling over a parking lot. He checked his watch. 1:30 am. Maybe Hermann was done defending his thesis and was willing to put up with Newt for the sixteenth time this week.

 

          4/16/06 1:34am

 **kaijublue** : hey herms

 **kaijublue** : did you do good?

          4/16/06 2:45am

 **turingtestedandapproved** : I don’t expect you’d be awake anymore, or you really shouldn’t be up.

 **turingtestedandapproved** : My defense went just fine, but it appears you were the only one to remember the date.

 **turingtestedandapproved** : And it would be “do well”, Newton.

 **kaijublue** : wait what?? aw herms im so sorry

 **kaijublue** : and i knew you’d kill it man! so congrats on that

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Thank you, Newton.

 **turingtestedandapproved** : I didn’t really expect them to come.

 **kaijublue** : i know dude, but it’s okay to be, like, upset about it you know??

 **turingtestedandapproved** : It’s a bit late to be upset about it now.

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Thank you for remembering, Newton.

 

New Message

Send to: [ pentecost@fbi.gov ](mailto:pentacost@fbi.gov)

Subject: Hire me for your new department

Hey Marshal,

So yeah, I wasn’t sure how to write this email because I know you’re a super official Marshal with the U.S. Government but also I’m trying to call in that favor. So I think by the nature of this, it’s a casual affair. I’ll totally send you a more official email later if you need it for records or some bullshit. Anyways, I hear you’re opening a new department for unexplained phenomenon or something like that and I want you to know that I’m totally in, man. I’m more than in.

Thanks my man,

Dr. Newt Geiszler

 

Marshal Stacker Pentecost <[ pentecost@fbi.gov ](mailto:pentacost@fbi.gov)>

to me:

RE: Hire me for your new department

To Dr. Newton Geiszler,

I’ve never been happy to see an email of yours until now. You beat me to the punch, Geiszler, I was going to email you about an opening in my new department. How early can you get to Quantico?

Thanks,

Marshal Stacker Pentecost

 

          RECEIPT FOR: GEISZLER, N

          CARD NUMBER: **** **** **** 8103

          Cedar-Riverside Liquors

                    04/16/06

FOUR LOKO ………………………………………… 2.99

FOUR LOKO ………………………………………… 2.99

FOUR LOKO ………………………………………… 2.99

 

4/16/06 3:45am

 **kaijublue** : hey

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Good lord, Newton, why are you awake?

 **kaijublue** : four lokos >:^)

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Newton!

 **kaijublue** : guess what bitch

 **turingtestedandapproved** : …………..What?

 **kaijublue** : i just got a job at the FB-motherfucking-I B)

* * *

Lieutenant Hercules Hansen <herchansen[ @ ](mailto:pentacost@fbi.gov)gmail.com>

to me:

RE: In need of a computer scientist

To Dr. Hermann Gottlieb,

Congratulations on your defense, Dr. Gottlieb. I don’t know if you remember me, but I was in attendance. My name is Hercules Hansen and I’m looking to take on a computer scientist with my department at MI6. I’m interested in using your algorithm to predict attacks and movement with the Taliban. Why don’t you come to my office and talk about it? I’m at [REDACTED].

Hope to hear from you,

Lieutenant Hercules Hansen

 

          4/17/06 10:34am

 **turingtestedandapproved** : What a coincidence, I’ve been offered a job at MI6.

 **kaijublue** : whoooaaaa man you’re like james bond

 **kaijublue** : can i be your sexy bond girl?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Newton, please.

 **kaijublue** : please like “yes please, newt, be my bond girl”?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Please as in, “Newton, please get over yourself”.

 **kaijublue** : :^(

 

Hermann sat at his tiny kitchen table in his tiny apartment drinking his first of many coffees of the day, hoping that he could numb away the twisting feeling in his stomach. It could be fear of entangling himself with a government agency that proudly spied on other people, but to his great shame it was a fear of rebellion. According to his parents, he was destined for a comfortable life in Silicon Valley as the head of a tech giant, not a counterintelligence programmer. But his parents couldn’t be bothered to celebrate his success at his thesis defense, so what did it matter what they thought? Hermann would really show them by possibly ruining his life. That would really stick it to them.

At least, in his head he would announce his new position as his final 'fuck you' to Lars but his track record said he would back down the second his father closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

_Don’t give me another headache, boy._

It was his favorite way to shut little Hermann down. He’d said it so many times, Hermann didn’t even know which time he was imagining. His father sitting in his chair in the study, his chair at the head of the dining room table, his chair in the kitchen, up on the barstool in the parlour, every scene blended and held together by the wash of heat that overtook Hermann in shame. In his worst moments, buried under the weight of paperwork and the missing last half of his thesis, he remembered the worst time on repeat.

_Hermann, NASA? Please, don’t turn my headache into a damn migraine._

Lars twirled his tumbler of scotch in his right hand as he sent another one of Hermann’s dreams packing.It wasn’t anything he had not said before, but it cut deeper. As Hermann turned his back and walked away, it occurred to him that he knew what his father was going to say long before he said it. This dream was deep seated and had grown old roots around his heart and lungs, but he had not said anything about it for years because he knew, even at seven, that his father would take it away. And thus his father became Lars and was kept at a clinical arm’s length away, and Hermann dreamed of the stars in private.

          4/17/06 11:01am

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Newton, may I ask a favour?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : If I ever tell you I’m not taking the job at MI6, do what you must to convince me otherwise.

 

Newt woke up in his shitty rented room with a rather inconvenient hangover at 11:30 the next morning. He groaned, rolled out of his bed, and pulled his boots on to walk into the grungy coffee shop below. An hour later, he was finally on the long road to Virginia, already planning a pit stop in Ohio to look for some frogmen.

 

4/17/06 7:43pm

 **kaijublue** : sure thing my man

 **kaijublue** : yo did you know that illinois sucks dick?

 

The only way to drive down any highway, in Newt’s opinion, was with the windows down and the song of the month on repeat. The sun on his face and the wind messing his hair up beyond all recognition reminded him of his uncle and the several times he took him on a day trip to the unregulated stretches of the Autobahn, much to his father’s dismay. It only took one trip to teach him some of his most important life lessons: One, he liked doing crazy shit, and two, he liked doing crazy shit that made people angry. These were lessons he learned over and over, and what he got up to only got more extreme with age.

A memory of one such occasion reared its head as he passed a sign for Columbus. The last night he spent at the Ohio State ended with blood and some broken S&M equipment getting shoved into a campus trash can. Really, he was there to talk to the cryptozoology club about his research, but he couldn’t help it if he was also invited to come mess around with the club president after hours. And really, it wasn’t his fault that the “vacationing roommate” who was “definitely not gonna come back soon” came back soon. One of many memories of hooking up with some guy he met on the trail of some creature and leaving the next day. One of many numbers written on the back of diner napkins that he never called, too afraid to make something more and inevitably fuck it up.

No, that wasn’t his style. And he definitely wasn’t freaking the fuck out over a solid job in Quantico, still travelling but always rooted to the same spot and no more choice on where to go next. Newt didn’t like the trip home.

 

          4/18/06 12:21am

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Illinois? I thought you were in Minnesota?

 **kaijublue** : nah my guy, my hunting buddy bailed on me and im not risking a wendigo hunt all on my lonesome

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Isn’t Illinois close to Minnesota?

 **kaijublue** : um….it’s like a 7 hour drive

 **turingtestedandapproved** : They look so close on the map…

 **kaijublue** : you gotta understand man, america is so fucking huge man

 **kaijublue** : especially compared with your tiny ass little homeland

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Hey now.

 **kaijublue** : >:^)

 **turingtestedandapproved** : And really, my homeland is Germany. I’m just in London for this doctorate.

 **kaijublue** : WHAT????? NO WAY DUDE!

 **kaijublue** : me too!!

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Really? Where are you from?

 **kaijublue** : Berlin, man! you?

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Garmisch Partenkirchen.

 **kaijublue** : oh man, of course you’re a fucking bavarian

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Of course you’re a Berliner.

 **kaijublue** : hey man….

 **kaijublue** : not that im not fucking pumped that we’re blood brothers, but i gotta sleep so i can go frogmen hunting tomorrow

 **turingtestedandapproved** : I won’t ask what that means. Goodnight.

 **kaijublue** : Gute Nacht, Hermann ;^)

* * *

“Dr. Gottlieb!” A handsome, clean cut man extended a hand as he approached. Hermann leaned on his cane as he got up to greet him. He did recognize Lieutenant Hansen as one of the many people in the auditorium but had been too flustered and stressed to make any notice of him. Nor did he wonder, at the time, why a man in full military dress was listening to some skinny, cane wielding computer scientist’s defense at Cambridge.

“Lieutenant Hansen, I presume.”

“Yeah, that’s me. I hope my email wasn’t too forward.” Hermann was surprised to hear Hansen’s Australian accent. The lieutenant began to walk down the hallway he came from and Hermann followed him.

“No, not at all.”

“Let’s take this into my office here.” Hansen opened to door they had stopped in front of and ushered Hermann inside.

“Please, sit.” He gestured to the lone chair in front of the desk. His office was poorly lit with walls covered in childish scribbles in crayon.

“Do you have children, Lieutenant?”

“Eh, call me Herc. Yeah, I got a son. Just me and him.”

“He’s very artistic.” Herc looked around the room as if he’d forgotten the hundreds of drawings on his wall.

“Oh, yeah! He loves it. I tell him if he keeps on practicing, he’ll get into the Louvre. You got any?”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah, you’re a bit young. And who’s got time with a thesis? Speaking of, let’s talk about your algorithm.” Hermann perked up, ready to talk about something he understood.

“Well, you heard me at Cambridge. Is there anything in particular you want to know?”

“That kind of stuff is above me, I’ll admit I was out of my depth. But we’re looking into using an algorithm like yours to use our intelligence information and communication records to predict future attacks. Do you think you could make something like that?”

Hermann furrowed his brow, not liking the sound of using communication records. Would he be using illegally, or at best unethically, gathered information? Was this phone records or tapped conversations? Hermann cast an uneasy glance at Herc, whose face had not changed expression once since since he greeted him at the door.

“What...what do you mean by communications records?” Herc huffed out a small, course laugh and Hermann, who was sure that his wary look was coming off more as a terrified schoolboy, tried not to give away that he was a fastidious rule follower.

“Look, it’s all legally acquired, Dr. Gottlieb. You wouldn’t be in hot water for using it. Using it to save lives, I might add.” Hermann’s frown did not fade.

“Is it ethically acquired?”

“Who decides what’s ethical? It’s war.”

“We’re not at war. America is.”

“And we’re just helping with counterintelligence. Nothing that hasn’t been done before. And it’s just online correspondence, chat rooms, emails, you know.”

“I…” Hermann began, but couldn’t find the words. In his head, he fought between saving lives and the unstoppable force of Big Brother, but a deeper part of him jumped at the thought of joining to get back at his asshole father.

“You don’t have to sign a contract with us right now-”

“No, I’d love to.”

“Alright, great. Great to have you.” Herc nodded and outstretch a hand across the table.

 

          4/19/06 5:16pm

 **kaijublue** : so when do i need to check that you took a job with james bond

 **turingtestedandapproved** : I took it yesterday, no need to worry.

 **kaijublue** : oh shit awesome!!

 **kaijublue** : cant believe we’re both super cool secret agents

 **turingtestedandapproved** : Neither can I.

 

“Sick tattoos man!” A girl with hair the color of lush summer grass pointed at him as she walked past the couch Newt was taking up.

“Thanks, dude. Ain’t bad yourself.” He pointed to the cat skull on her thigh and she grinned. His host, an old friend from Columbus named Tyler, handed him a beer and sat next to him, slinging his arm across Newt’s shoulders.

“Thanks, my man.” He clinked their glasses together before taking a sip. After tasting something that wasn’t a watery PBR, he read the label of some local craft brew.

“Aw you got me good stuff.” He smiled at Tyler, who leaned forward to crash their lips together.

 _Oh._ Newt thought. _Yeah that explains the good beer, then_. He wasn’t super into Tyler, but he was a good kisser and maybe if he made out with him, he could get even more nice alcohol, so Newt kept it up and let his mind wander.

_That’s a new tongue piercing I don’t remember._

_I wonder if cat skull girl has any other cool tattoos I can see later. Unless she leaves before Tyler gets up again._

_Maybe if I hook up with Tyler, he’ll let me sleep in his bed instead of on the couch._

_I should ask Stacker if I can dye my hair green. I wonder if any other FBI agents dye their hair cool colors. Does Hermann dye his hair?_

_Hermann._

_I wonder what Hermann’s up to?_

Much to Newt’s confusion, he felt a flash of heat in his stomach when he thought about Hermann, his faceless, disembodied internet friend he’d known for a month.

Newt thought about what he did know about Hermann. He was from Germany, doing his doctorate at Cambridge. He did computer stuff and was now an agent with MI6. He liked Star Trek and clearly had a thing for robots. He had an asshole dad and some siblings. He was 24 and he used a cane. He was willing to put up with some weirdo who liked his username. Oh, and he was secretly funny behind his grammatically perfect messages, because only a funny guy would think of that name.

But there was no face, no voice for Newt to hold onto, and yet the thought of him made his cheeks flush. If he wasn’t careful, he knew he’d fuck it up and lose this cool guy who didn’t mind him crashing into his life from a chat room. A wave fear replaced the wave of heat Newt felt. Tyler slid his hand up Newt’s thigh.

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah, message received, dude._ On any other night, he would have stopped Tyler’s hand and made some excuse about needing to wake up early, but Newt was feeling self destructive and if he could stop thinking for long enough, maybe he’d fall asleep without feeling like shit.

But that not how the night went, because trying to keep a bad thought out of Newt’s head was like trying to herd cats. He spent the night staring out the window into the stars, with a guy he couldn’t give less of a damn about on top of him, piecing together the bits of Hermann he knew into a fully fleshed fantasy. Did he have tattoos? What color was his hair? His eyes? His skin?

When Tyler finally finished after a century, Newt turned to face the window and wondered if Hermann could see the moon, too.


	2. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Hermann adjust to their new positions and receive some surprising news, separately and together.

RECEIPT FOR: GOTTLIEB, H

CARD NUMBER: **** **** **** 6522

University Street Wines

06/09/06

FRANZIA, MERLOT …...…………  10.00

 

6/13/06 4:40pm

**kaijublue** : hey herms

**kaijublue** : whens your birthday?

**turingtestedandapproved** : June 9th

**kaijublue:** WHAT??????

**kaijublue** : Hermann!!!!

**kaijublue** : Happy late Birthday, man!

**turingtestedandapproved** : Thank you, Newton.

**turingtestedandapproved** : I’m not a birthday sort of person.

**kaijublue** : im a huge birthday person and i kinda make it a point to celebrate the shit out of them

**kaijublue** : unless its like traumatic or something

**turingtestedandapproved** : No, I just never thought it was important.

**turingtestedandapproved** : When is your birthday?

**kaijublue** : january 19th

**kaijublue** : capricorn all the way, baby :^)

**turingtestedandapproved** : What’s a capricorn?

**kaijublue** : my zodiac sign! 

**turingtestedandapproved** : What is that?

**kaijublue** : shit, man, youve never heard of the zodiac? 

**kaijublue** : theyre like constellations and you have a different one depending on the month you were born in

**kaijublue** : youre a gemini, my dude

**turingtestedandapproved** : You learn something new every day, I suppose.

**kaijublue** : hell yeah you do

**kaijublue** : i gotta go man, happy birthday! 

**turingtestedandapproved** : Thank you. 

 

Hermann lit his seventh cigarette of the day on a city bench a block away from his new place of employment. The perpetually full garbage cans lining the smoking area and the inescapable heat from the sun threatened to end Hermann’s habit all together, but the dreadful atmosphere at least fit his mood. Breaking the news of his new job under Lieutenant Hansen did not go well at all and he was consequently blacklisted by his family until he quit. It wasn’t like he talked to them regularly, often leaving months between conversations, but Lars took great delight in ignoring him on his birthday. Hermann tried to play it off in his head that he never really cared about his birthday, which was true for the most part. But even in the heat, his family’s disregard for him left him feeling cold.

He had replayed the scene over and over in his head while he worked, when he ate, when he smoked, when he desperately tried to sleep.

_ So what you’re telling me, Hermann, is that you happily wasted your education? You wasted all the opportunities I have given you? You could have made a fortune with the gifts you have. _

“If you care so much about my education, why didn’t you come to my thesis defense?” His voice did not shake like it always did and for a moment, Hermann could swear he saw panic behind Lars’ eyes. But it was fleeting.

_ Am I supposed to celebrate every little achievement of yours? Is this the third grade, Hermann? _

Lars was smug about his reply and suddenly the spell was broken. It was not the first time Hermann wondered why he bothered, but it was, he decided, the last. Hermann turned and left his father’s study, kissing his mother goodbye on the way out. And thus his father, who had become Lars, became even less important than an internet stranger he had known for three months. 

* * *

A trickle of water from Newt’s melting ice pack dripped down face, threatening to soak into his collar.

“How long do I need to keep this up?” He asked the nurse holding the pack to his temple.

“Until the ice melts. And whenever it hurts, shouldn’t take more than a week.” He pouted but she just left the room, brushing past Stacker in the doorway. 

“Newton.” He nodded.

“So am I gonna get reprimanded for this or what?”

“No, Newton, you completed your investigation. This is part of the job.”

“So why are you here?”

“It’s part of the job, but that doesn’t mean I don’t check up on our injured. Will you be able to come in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I guess, it’s not that bad.”

“Good, because I’ll need the write up on my desk by five tomorrow.” Newt groaned in protest. 

“Contrary to your belief, Dr. Geiszler, the government does not stop for you.” And with that, Pentecost turned and left Newt with the half melted ice pack in his numb hand. 

 

6/18/06 11:12pm

**kaijublue** : guess who got shot at today! 

**turingtestedandapproved** : What?

**turingtestedandapproved** : Are you okay?

**kaijublue** : no i died

**turingtestedandapproved** : Newton, please.

**kaijublue** : it’s all good, dude, they missed

**kaijublue** : i did fall and hit my head though, but i dont even have a concussion so its cool

**turingtestedandapproved** : How in God’s name did this happen?

**kaijublue** : oh yeah, well you know how i went down to west virginia to look into those creature sightings?

**kaijublue** : turns out it was just a secret meth lab in the woods and the dudes were just wearing those crazy hunting suits that look like swamp monsters

**kaijublue** : and yeah they freaked out when they saw me and tried to shoot me, but they were mad high and missed by like ten feet

**turingtestedandapproved** : Well, I’m glad you’re alright.

**kaijublue** : aw thanks man

**kaijublue** : if i died, would you come to my funeral?

**turingtestedandapproved** : Newton, for God’s sake.

**kaijublue** : :^(

 

11/23/06 3:01pm

**kaijublue** : do you know what i realized today?

**turingtestedandapproved** : What’s that?

**kaijublue** : you’ve never experienced Thanksgiving

**turingtestedandapproved** : I’ve experienced a Thanksgiving.

**kaijublue** : awwwww 

**kaijublue** : i wanted to pop your thanksgiving cherry someday :(

**turingtestedandapproved** : Sorry to disappoint, but I did study abroad in Boston for a year. 

**kaijublue** : aw shit i forgot about that

**kaijublue** : guess i’ll have to figure out another cherry to pop ;^)

**turingtestedandapproved** : Good Lord, Newton.

 

12/15/06 3:15pm

**kaijublue** : got any plans for christmas, herms?

**turingtestedandapproved** : I’m afraid not. My father still isn’t speaking to me.

**kaijublue** : holy shit, what an asshole!!

**turingtestedandapproved** : Indeed.

**kaijublue** : it’s been like six months! what the fuck man?? 

**kaijublue** : i’m so sorry, hermann

**turingtestedandapproved** : Thank you, Newton.

**turingtestedandapproved** : Though to be honest, I think I’d rather have it this way. My sister is visiting on Boxing Day, so it’s not all bad.

**kaijublue** : oh sweet! im glad :)

**turingtestedandapproved** : Do you have any plans?

**kaijublue** : yeah!! my dad and uncle are coming from germany for the week, it’s gonna be awesome

 

12/25/06 8:00am

**kaijublue** : MERRY CHRISTMAS HERMANN!!!!!!!!!!!! :)))))))

**turingtestedandapproved** : Thank you, Newton. Merry Christmas :)

 

In Virginia, Newt grinned at the message. It felt trivial, but even getting a virtual smile out of Hermann was a victory.

In London, Hermann felt something grip his stomach when he read the message. Maybe it was fear, or sadness that his father was still content to see Hermann alone during the holidays. Or maybe it was love.

 

3/24/07 11:46pm

**kaijublue** : hermann do you believe in aliens?

**turingtestedandapproved** : Excuse me?

**kaijublue** : do you believe there could be life on other planets, man?

**turingtestedandapproved** : I do not. 

**turingtestedandapproved** : Maybe somewhere in the universe at some time, but the odds that we could ever make contact are low. Have you ever heard of the Drake equation?

**kaijublue** : hell yeah i have! you don’t make it far in cryptozoology without seeing it

**turingtestedandapproved** : I admittedly know little about cryptozoology as a field. 

**kaijublue** : not many people do! i’m pretty special :^)

**turingtestedandapproved** : That you are.

**kaijublue** : awwwwww you really think i’m special?

**turingtestedandapproved** : It’s hard not to. You’re a German expat special agent in a pseudoscientific field studying monsters for a living. Even if you weren’t a government employee, your manner of speaking is beyond bizarre. And of anyone on earth to talk to online, you choose to talk to me. 

 

Newt blinked owlishly at his computer in the dark of his apartment bedroom. He expected Hermann’s usual straight laced response to his prodding, a “you’re insufferable” with a tangible eye roll through the screen. Instead he got...this. It made him hot in the cheeks in a way late night messages usually did, but in a totally new way. This was tender, an outpouring of verbal intimacy that Newton had not received in a long time. Maybe he was reading too much into it, after all it was a list of facts. He was indeed a German expat working for the FBI’s unexplained events department who had a tendency to beleaguer Hermann with fringe slang. But after a year of talking (a whole year!), Newt could feel more than that. 

Across the ocean, Hermann sat with his face in his hands, steam from his first early morning coffee making the heat in his face much worse. He could not believe he actually sent the message he intended to type out, delete, rephrase, delete again, and send. The thrum of hot shame was still echoing inside of him and his heart was beating like crazy. Even worse was his feelings of anger toward himself for falling apart because of an accidentally sentimental message to a friend like he was the boy too young to be at university with an unfortunate, ill-fated crush on his contemporary. 

He took a breath in, flexing his fingers, and reminded himself where he was. He was an adult, an MI6 agent for God’s sake, talking to an actual contemporary for once. Newton was wild and comfortable and endlessly flirtatious and the type of person who would forgive an overindulgence of emotion. Before he had a chance to relapse into his fear, he received another notification.

 

3/25/07 12:03am

**kaijublue** : aw hermann, that message totally made my day <3 <3 <3

**kaijublue** : and for the record, I think you’re pretty special and out of anyone on earth, i’m glad it’s you

 

Maybe it was the overwhelming tide of memories from his doomed attractions of university, or the overwhelming tide of isolation from his family, but Hermann cried for the first time in years at his kitchen table, then for the second time outside with his first cigarette. He cried until he had to sit against the brick wall amongst the weeds poking through the cold concrete. He sobbed until the bitter winter air burned his throat and his tears ran freezing down his face. 

* * *

Newt was enraptured by attempting to stick as many sharp pencils into his ceiling as possible when three short raps came from his door.

“Dr. Geizler.” Marshal Pentacost stood with his hands clasped in front of him, waiting for Newt’s response. 

“Stacker! What can I do for you, man?” Marshal Pentacost looked unimpressed with his semi-new subordinate.

“I’d like that report on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

“And by tomorrow morning you mean-” 

“I mean I want to see it when I walk in. So getting it done before you leave is advisable.”

“Understood, Stacker.” Pentacost huffed at Newt’s lack of formalities and left. Newt looked at the clock. _ 3:00, easy enough to bang that out before 5 _ . Newt got up to fill up his coffee and have a stretch and found his report to be utterly unengaging upon his return. He contemplated throwing more pencils into the ceiling and settled on opening his chat with Hermann. Of course he was disappointed to see Hermann still hadn’t responded but he expected his friend would need space to do whatever it is he did. 

Instead of taking Hermann’s silence as an opportunity to work, he dug his heels into Hermann more and did something he had been putting off for a while. He pulled up Google and looked Hermann up, dead set on finding a picture. Hermann had sent him articles on his work, which all notably neglected to feature his face. A search of his name brought up nothing but academic journals.  _ Time to put my special agent-ness to the test… _

It didn’t require much work, just a search for Cambridge Department of Computer Science and Technology and there he was in their announcement of PhD students. Newt felt a strange pressure with this new knowledge that Hermann was  _ goofy  _ looking. He was tall and skinny and positively nerdy with his undercut and baggy grandpa clothes. Above all, he looked tired, depressed and tripped out on caffeine and nicotine.  _ Just like me, my man _ , Newt thought to himself. He lingered over the picture for a moment longer to take him in. Hermann looked exactly like the uptight, froggy rich boy Newt was expecting and unfortunately he was  _ cute _ , which horrified him. 

There was something about flirting with a faceless username that came so much easier than a real Hermann. Real Hermann could get mad at him. He could make Real Hermann uncomfortable. Real Hermann looked uptight and offended at the idea of anything other than missionary with the lights off before bed. It didn’t have to change anything, after all they were just online friends, but it made Newt defensive. Hermann was every stuffy academic who denied him funding and retracted their invitations at first meeting. He looked like every blank stare from the bio council when he quit. He looked like everyone who hated Newt. 

But he wasn’t everyone who hated Newt. He still talked to him despite his eclectic vocabulary of slang and emoticons and let him offer to pop his Thanksgiving cherry without much fuss. He listened and cared and didn’t leave at the first sign of strangeness, and for that, Newt would put off worrying over their differences to a different day. 

 

On a warm May morning, Lieutenant Hansen found Hermann outside by the dumpsters putting out his cigarette, looking surprised and uncomfortable that his superior officer trekked to quite possibly the worst part of the complex to find him.

“Lieutenant Hansen, what are you doing out here?” Hermann pushed himself to stand up straight from where he had been slumping against the wall, feeling a stab of pain in his leg. 

“Sorry to bother you, Dr. Gottlieb, but I’ve got to run and pick up Chuck in a few, so I thought I’d come to you. I’ve been invited by an old friend in the FBI for a conference at Quantico on developing tech in counterintelligence and, uh, I think you should really tag along.” 

“Um…” Hermann blinked at him. This was an unexpected development. Hermann still didn’t even believe he truly got this job, despite being there for over a year. But the utility of his program and the considerable strides he’d made with it demanded to be seen by the Americans. 

“I know it’s a bit last minute, but-”

“Well when would we leave?”

“It’s in July, so a touch over two months. Flights and accommodation paid for, of course. But I understand if that’s too short to get any affairs in order.”  _ Oh, he thinks I have affairs _ . 

“No, that’s plenty of time. Don’t have much to leave behind.” Hermann blushed at how self-deprecating he sounded. 

“Right. Well you think you could do it?”

“Of course. It would be an honor, sir.” 

“I’ll send you the details tonight, I have to run. Have a good night, then.” Hermann nodded to the lieutenant as he departed. 

Hermann watched him walk to his car, wondering if his superior understood how heavy a weight his request was. Most likely, Hercules Hansen had barely thought about it at all, for he was confident and bold and a stranger to the fear of speaking one’s mind. Nor did Hercules know about his strange friend in the FBI, but it didn’t really matter. Anyone else would be thrilled to meet their companion, but no one else was Hermann, who picked apart every interaction he ever had and was more than content to squirrell himself away. But he could not hide from Quantico.

After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, Hermann sat up to look at his clock. 12am. He fell back onto his bed in frustration. He thought his sleep deprivation was bad during his thesis, but at least he could fall asleep for the hours he had. Lars haunted his thoughts before bed. Sometimes it felt like he was eleven again, his father staring at him from his bedroom doorway in the dark when he thought Hermann was asleep, shaking his head at his wasted body. Now Lars was there, sitting on his bed in the dark, taunting him for working himself up over an faceless username on a forum site. 

_ Isn’t that cute? A friend for poor Hermann. _ He shuddered, remembering only the sound of Lars’ voice and the tops of his shoes he stared at as he kept his head down. He was seven and had just introduced his parents to his new school friend, David, and had announced that he loved him in the grandiose way only children do. His mind filled in the blanks.

_ It’s awfully brave of you, Hermann, to pour your heart into this basement dweller. _

_ He’s not a basement dweller, his name is Newton and he’s an FBI agent with a doctorate. _

_ So you take him at his word like a true fool.  _

Hermann sat up and looked at his computer across the room. He had avoided looking up his friend out of principle. He didn’t need to know what Newton looked like just as he didn’t want Newton to look him up and see him. But even so, he was afraid of his own willful ignorance. Sometimes, Newton seemed too strange to be real, what with his pseudoscience that somehow landed him a job with the FBI. Maybe he was afraid that his friend really was a fake but as long as he did not know that for sure, he could revel in the fantasy for that much longer. Or maybe that was Lars talking. 

He lasted until his morning coffee, which he sipped as he searched for his friend. The results were immediate and plentiful and shocking to say the least. The first result was from the MIT Biological Sciences faculty page, much to his surprise.  _ He didn’t tell me he used to teach.  _ There was no picture, nor was there much information beyond his publications and a notice he had retired.  _ Retired at age 23? _

Hermann kept sleuthing, by which he meant he scrolled past the journal articles to what appeared to be a MySpace page. Newton chose to express his online persona with a sea of technicolor art and glittering GIFs that Hermann stared at mutley until Newton’s song of the moment,  _ Dragula _ , came screeching through his speakers. He scrolled to find a way to pause it and there it was, next to a picture. 

Two men, one embracing the other so as to hide his face and the other facing the camera with a smile big enough to squeeze his eyes shut and his hand up in a peace sign. Either one could be him, but Hermann was positive the smiling one was Newton. Apparently, he emoted the same way in person as he did online, radiated the same keyed up joy, but just to make sure, Hermann tried to find another photo with just one man. 

It wasn’t hard. It wasn’t hard at all. There were posts about and from so many people that the names blurred together quickly. The next set of pictures he could find were of the smiling man, who was definitely Newton, lying on a tattoo parlor bench with the artist hunched over his stomach. Then he was standing with one arm around the artist and the other hand giving the same peace sign as before. He lingered over the picture of Newton with his chest and stomach exposed, swirling ink tentacles covering most of the expanse, and kept scrolling until his eyes protested. 

Hermann learned two things from his expedition into Newton’s online persona. The first was that Newton was handsome in a familiar way. He was the exact charming science geek Hermann had fawned over in private several times. Confident, sharp and good looking but ultimately nerdy and quick witted in a way that left Hermann tripping over his own words. 

The second was that Newton lived in a world beyond what he knew. A whirlwind of people dressed in grungy thrift store clothes on purpose with bright hair cut in ways he’d never seen with all variety of lip rings and tongue studs. And of course, Newton himself was covered in a nebula of colors and lines that honestly  _ scared  _ him. 

Newton’s life was untamable and unknowable to a man who tucked in his starched shirt before pulling on his sweater vest every day. He still had the same haircut he’d been getting since he was five. Hermann’s sister couldn’t even get more than one ring in each ear until she was eighteen. And now there was Newton who covered himself in monsters and swirling effigies and left prestigious jobs to study urban legend  _ and  _ had a family that still saw him at Christmas. 

Something tugged at Hermann from inside. He wasn’t scared of Newton’s life after all, but  _ sad _ . Lars had tricked him into thinking that a life spent bending into his box was a life well spent. Hermann spent so long thinking happiness would come from another degree or a job in Silicon Valley, but it never came. Newton lived his life in an intimidating freedom he had never felt. He lived without a single foot in Lars’ box and the world had not ended for him.  

* * *

5/10/07 5:45pm

**turingtestedandapproved** : Are you awake Newton? 

**kaijublue** : always :@)

**turingtestedandapproved** : What is that face?

**kaijublue** : its a clown

**kaijublue** : cause im clowning around

**turingtestedandapproved** : Ugh. 

**kaijublue** : :@(

**kaijublue** : anyways, whats up?

**turingtestedandapproved** : I just found out I’ll be coming to Quantico for a presentation in July. 

**kaijublue** : Holy. Shit. Dude.

**kaijublue** : YES!!!!!! THAT’S FUCKING AWESOME!!!!

**kaijublue** : i mean, not that i expect you to come see me but i kinda expect you to come see me

**turingtestedandapproved** : Of course I’ll come and see you. 

**kaijublue** : oh man oh man oh man im so excited herms

**kaijublue** : this is too cool

**kaijublue** : wait i thought you were counterterrorism

**turingtestedandapproved** : I am.

**kaijublue** : so shouldn’t you be giving a presentation to the CIA not FBI

**turingtestedandapproved** : Is the CIA not in Quantico?

**kaijublue** : lol nope, but it’s still close. but i’ll totally show you around ;)

**kaijublue** : alright, i actually gotta sign off because im a working man

**kaijublue** : goodnight herms <3 ;)

**turingtestedandapproved** : Goodnight

 

Newton arrived to work thrumming with energy, which was certainly not odd for him, but it threatened to topple him over as he poured his first of many coffees. Hermann was coming. Hermann was coming to Quantico (or Langley, who really knows). Uptight, fish boy Hermann was coming into his place of work, the space of a different Newt than the one who talked to him via messenger. Would Hermann be put off by the slightly more conservative version of him that lived in the headquarters? Or would Hermann be relieved, only to be shocked by the private Newt to come? But that was two months away so Newt decided to repress it for a later date.

That later date turned out to that same date, when Marshal Pentecost knocked on his door after his lunch with Mako. 

“Dr. Geiszler, a minute please?”

“Of course, Marshal, as long as Mako gets a minute for some new comics, as well?” Pentecost sighed.

“Of course,” he said with considerable labor as he stepped aside to let his daughter bounce into the office.

“Business first, Mako!” He chided her as she ran to his desk. “So what’s up?”

“It’s more of a personal matter this time. I’m hosting an old friend in the MI6 for a conference at Langley in July. Counterterrorism, technology, the like. I’ll be occupied that weekend and I was wondering if you’d be willing to keep Mako here and look after her.”

“Oh, yeah of course! That’s funny, I think I know someone coming up for that conference.” Pentecost threw a dubious look his way.  _ Oh, what I don’t get to make fancy friends? _

“Um, his name is Hermann.” 

“You know Hermann Gottlieb? How?” The disbelief was incredible. 

“Um, you know, we’re friends. Not many young proteges out there in this line of work…” Newt scrambled to cover up their chance meeting on a forum, of which Pentecost would undoubtedly judge him strongly for. 

“Right. Well, it’s a ways out from now but I wanted to catch you early.”

“Yeah sure man. Well if that’s all the business…” Newt opened the bottom door of his desk, “I’ve got some more important matter to tend to.” Pentecost rolled his eyes. Mako’s demeanor could have fooled a layman; she opened her backpack to take out a stack of comics calmly, but her excitement was palpable. Once the exchange was made, she tore through the stack, looking for the titles.

“Any more Godzilla?”

“Hm…” Newt wracked his brain, “I think there’s two towards the bottom.”

“Godzilla!” She exclaimed as she hugged the comics to her chest and jumped around. 

“Woah, someone’s got a favorite!” Newt smiled cautiously at Marshal Pentecost, who for all of his frustration with Newt’s antics, was just barely smiling at his daughter. 

“What’s your favorite, Dr. Newt?” 

“Hm, now that’s a good question. I think my favorite is Mothra.”

“Who’s Mothra?”

“When you finish those, I’ll show you. He’s kind of a big kid monster…”

“I’m a big kid! I’m a big kid!”

“Oh I bet you are, but you’ve got to earn it. Big kids read fast, Mako.”

“I’ll read fast!”

“I know you will. Take care of those, I bet your dad wants to get home now.” Pentecost nodded at him.

“What do we say, Mako?” Pentecost urged.

“Thank you, Dr. Newt!”

“You’re very welcome, Mako.” His superior took Mako by the hand and lead her out, giving him a quick ‘take care’ on his way out.  _ Kids rule _ , he thought to himself,  _ man, why did I stop being a teacher? _ But he knew why he stopped being a teacher, and it wasn’t the kids. Really, he was never teaching kids to begin with, but he knew teaching was out of the question for at least ten more years. Bureaucracy did not suit him, which was an ironic stance for an FBI agent to take, but Pentecost understood that about him. And he had hooked him up with this sweet office and a sweet job on his own and as much as Newt was reluctant to admit his hawkish, stiff boss was awesome, Pentecost was kind of awesome. 

And apparently his awesome boss knew Hermann, or at least he knew Hermann’s superior. It was a pretty small world, after all, and now he was totally going to meet Hermann and they could be best friends for real. _ I hope. _

 

5/11/07 6:00pm

**kaijublue:** so my boss just told me about your conference lol

**turingtestedandapproved** : Your boss is Stacker Pentecost? 

**kaijublue** : yup

**turingtestedandapproved** : Why did he tell you? You’re not even tangentially involved in terrorism. 

**kaijublue** : he asked me to babysit for him

**turingtestedandapproved** : Ah. I’m amazed someone like him trusts you with his offspring.

**kaijublue** : :^(

**kaijublue** : for the record, his daughter loves me so whatever

**kaijublue** : and im great with kids! i used to be a teacher, you know

**turingtestedandapproved** : A college professor hardly counts as teaching children.

**kaijublue** : ………..

**kaijublue** : how did you know i was a college professor?

**turingtestedandapproved** : I may or may not have looked you up. 

**kaijublue** : oh lol thats all good, because i may or may not have looked you up

**kaijublue** : i didn’t think theyd still have me on the faculty website

**turingtestedandapproved** : I think it’s standard to keep a record of retired professors. 

**kaijublue** : they listed me as retired? 

**turingtestedandapproved** : They did, is that not true?

**kaijublue** : i guess it is. it was not a very graceful retirement lol

**turingtestedandapproved** : What do you mean?

**kaijublue** : i kinda quit very loudly 

**kaijublue** : like they called security on me. but i guess that counts as retirement

**turingtestedandapproved** : Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.

**kaijublue** : haha it’s all good now. i wasn’t suited for academia like that, and now i’ve got a sweet job so i guess i win :^)

**kaijublue** : i guess that means you also found the myspace page, huh?

**turingtestedandapproved** : I did. 

**kaijublue** : …..and?

**turingtestedandapproved** : And what?

**kaijublue** : what did you think?

**turingtestedandapproved** : You have some strange tattoos. 

**kaijublue** : bad strange? 

**turingtestedandapproved** : Just strange. 

**kaijublue** : yeah you dont strike me as the kind of guy to get inked up 

**turingtestedandapproved** : Not at all. 

**turingtestedandapproved** : My sister wasn’t even allowed to get more than one ear piercing, so I can’t imagine what my parents would do with me.

**kaijublue** : well the secret is that they dont have to let you do anything

**turingtestedandapproved** : I know, but it’s hard to shake. 

**turingtestedandapproved** : I don’t think I have the style for it, anyways.

**kaijublue** : i’ll say ;)

 

The bell of the cafe door ringed merrily as Hermann bustled in, looking for something a little nicer than drip coffee and PG Tips on his lunch break. He wasn’t one to get pretentious with his caffeine, as he only had so much money these days. A six cup a day habit can only warrant so much luxury, but sometimes he was willing to pay extra for the atmosphere. This shop had become his favorite place to brood with a warm cup in his hands. The stately park behind it afforded him a view into a life he once lived and was now extremely bitter about. 

Hundreds of women in linen suits and houndstooth knitted wear walked through the trails with their children and pets each day, and in every face he saw his mother. He was even sure he spotted exact items his mother owned, down to the brand. He didn’t miss the stiff etiquette and fussing over what outfits to where when and with what people, but he did miss her. The cafe window was another addition to his list of unhealthy coping mechanisms, right beside coffee and smoking, and one day he’d tear himself away. But not yet. 

He needed to brood today, as he was marvelously unsure of how he felt that Newton had looked him up and seen what he looked like. Of course he was aware how nerdy he looked, but the occasional embarrassment was more than outweighed by the fear. The Lars in his head was always talking, always loud. It was a silly thing to be afraid of, getting new clothes or styling your hair, but it had seemed like the end of the world for so long. 

But now Newton, his young and eclectic and alternative friend, had seen his picture and was probably judging him for looking like some frumpy old person. He wasn’t probably judging him, he was. Hermann glared out the window at the old money Londoners walking about with their purebreds and their young heirs and he hated them. He hated their clothes and their hair and their tiny inbred dogs. He hated the children who would probably grow up just like their parents. He hated that he never belonged to them. And he hated that as much as he hated them, people like Newton would never like him, either. But he didn’t know that. He had never even given it a try. Above all, Hermann hated himself because he was too scared to change the things he hated. 

Hermann allowed himself to sulk at the window for a moment longer, but ripped himself away. It was dangerous for him to develop another habit like this and let Lars and his abuse sink into the fabric of his psyche even more. He stared for a moment longer to ground himself. Those kids and their mothers didn’t deserve his vitriol. 

It had been almost a year since he and his father (his Sperm Donor, as Newton once called him) had talked, as well as his mother. It wasn’t easy to be married to Lars, but Hermann felt an intense anger that she would cut him out for the sins of her husband. Hermann still heard from his siblings from time to time, which was more than enough to compensate for Lars’ absence. One day, he’d have to move on from his parents or bend to their whims at a very personal expense, but it was not a choice he was ready to make. 

* * *

“So, how do you know this guy exactly?” Tendo asked with doubt heavy in his voice as he reached for the sun chips.

“Uh, well he had a funny username on this forum so I messaged him and like he’s pretty cool, so…” 

“I mean is he like cute or something? I haven’t known you to stay on someone for so long.”

“Haven’t we been friends for like five fucking years? That’s long,” Newt said as he grabbed the chips back. 

“Five years friendship time is like 50 years in Newt’s romantic time.”

“It’s not romantic, we’re just friends.” 

“Alright, alright. That’s fair. But you kinda moon over him, you know.” Tendo stretched out on the couch.

“Newt moons over who?” Yancy pushed Tendo’s feet off the couch so he could sit with a beer. 

“Don’t you get drug tested, man?” Tendo put his feet back up over Yancy’s lap.

“Yeah, so I’m not gonna take any drugs. Am I not allowed to sit with my beer?” Tendo held his hands up.

“Just making sure, just making sure.”

“Anyways, who are we talking about?”

“It’s just something stupid,” Newt deflected as he pawed around the table for his lighter.

“Well Yancy, did you know that our very own Dr. Newton Geizler is engaged in an online   

relationship with some good English fellow?” Newton vocalized in protest, and subsequently coughed into his pipe.

“It’s not,” he coughed, “we’re not-fuck-it’s not a relationship,” Newton doubled over from the smoke, “just friends.”

“Sounds scandalous, my friend.” Tendo teased him.

“Are you sure he’s real? Like that’s not one of the Nigerian Prince things, is it?” Yancy voiced in concern.

“No, I looked him up and it’s him. He’s actually coming here for some counterterrorism thing.”

“Wait,” Yancy leaned forward, “you’re not talking about Lieutenant Hansen, are you? Because he’s actually Australian.”

“No, not him. His name is Hermann.”

“Hermann Gottlieb?” Tendo almost yelled incredulously. 

“God, why does everyone know him?”

“Dude, he’s only the hottest name in counterterrorism right now. He’s developing this program that’s gonna totally change the game.”

“Oh,” Newt felt a bit lost for words, “that’s cool.”

“The man is a genius. Pentecost was so mad that Hansen got him first. And you just...met him on a forum?”

“Um, yeah. I guess I would have met him eventually though...or something.”

“That’s way cool though.”

“So are both of you going to that conference?”

“I am,” Yancy said between sips.

“Me too,” offered Tendo.

“Wow, I’m just fucking babysitting for the Marshal. But I’m gonna meet up with Hermann after.”

“Wait can we go back to something?” Tendo asked.

“Um, sure Tendo.”

“So do you think Hermann’s cute or what?”

Newt knew what Tendo was about to do. It was bait; if Newt was honest, Tendo would team up with Yancy to make fun of his love for nerdy little trustfund boys like Hermann, but if he lied, Tendo would sniff it out and Yancy would activate his interrogation powers until Newt was made a fool. Maybe it was the weed making him underthink, or maybe it was a desire to protect his friend, but Newt was unabashedly honest that night. 

“Um, yeah I think he’s fucking cute.” Tendo erupted into laughs.

“There we go! Finally some fucking honesty!” Yancy stood and patted Newt’s shoulder as he walked to get another beer.

“So,” Tendo leaned in, “is this meetup just a meetup, or...you know…”

“Nah man, just a meetup. I don’t even know if he’s like gay or anything. I don’t even think he’s had sex before.”

“Dude, you’re in some serious territory right now.”

“How is this serious?”

“Because I know you and I know the way you fuck and run and I’m saying that you can’t do that because you’ll fucking ditch.”

“I think I appreciate the advice but I’m pretty sure there won’t be any fucking.”

“Yeah, I get it but I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “all I know is I got some texts from Tyler a year ago and I’m a little dubious about your self control.” Newt rolled his eyes at him.

“Look man, that’s totally different. He moved on me, first of all, and I kinda only did it so I could sleep on a bed and not a couch.”

“Always a class act, Newt.”

“I’m a changed man, Tendo. I’m all reformed and shit. I am even a public servant.” 

“A public servant enamored with a nerdy virgin. Gotta admit, man, that’s pretty reformed.” Newt grinned at Tendo before lighting up his pipe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ............hey. its been a while. i'm doing this story for nanowrimo so inshallah more will come 
> 
> :^)


	3. The End

AMERICAN AIRLINES 

LHR (LONDON HTHRW) to IAD (WASHINGTON DLLS)

1:05PM DEPARTURE                    ETA 4PM EasternST

ADULT TICKET, COACH

NAME: Gottlieb, HERMANN

* * *

7/02/07 6:21am

**kaijublue:** so are you fucking PUMPED to come see me???

**turingtestedandapproved** : Perhaps.

**kaijublue** : youre really gonna play so coy when im all excited?

**turingtestedandapproved** : Fine, yes I am very excited to come and see you.  

**kaijublue** : thought so :)))

**kaijublue** : so when does your flight land? 

**turingtestedandapproved** : As of now, four in the afternoon, eastern standard time. Then we’ll be booked until the next evening. 

**kaijublue** : awesome!! Its gonna be so great to see you 

**turingtestedandapproved** : It will be. See you soon. 

 

Newt arrived at work, as always, and calmly strolled into his office without his usual coffee, as he had been up since six in the morning to send one last message to Hermann before he left and already had about three of his usual six cups. He didn’t reveal it, but he was practically jumping up and down like Mako when he gave her a particularly cool issue.  _ Oh, right, Mako is coming too _ . 

This realization was a very welcome one, as he now had something to funnel his intense nervous energy into. His office was a mess and absolutely not suited to host the little Pentecost protege, so he cleaned manically until he found himself dusting the individual spines of all the books in his case. 

Newt took a breath in, trying to center himself.  _ You don’t even get to see him today, jesus christ calm yourself and get ready for Mako.  _

 

Thousands of miles up and away, Hermann felt restless as well. He found the hours and hours of ocean expanse out his window to be less than engaging and even distracting.  _ No wonder Newton thinks there could be monsters on Earth, it’s so large. They could be hiding anywhere. _ He chided himself for entertaining Newton’s monster obsession.

“You a nervous flyer?” Lieutenant Hansen asked him.

“Oh,” Hermann put down his fidgeting hands, “no, not really.”

“Ah, you just looked a bit on edge. Nervous for the presentation at all?”

“A bit, if I’m being honest I’m not a very good public speaker, and…” Hermann stopped himself before he could bring up the bulk of his worries. 

“And…?” Hansen pressed anyways.

“And I have a...friend at Quantico. I’m going to meet him and I...well it’s been a long time I suppose.” 

“Oh, well that’s exciting. I’m sure you’ll have a good time.” Hansen said before he put some headphones on for a movie. Hermann smiled to himself, as he was sure as well. 

 

_ Would it be weird to stalk what hotel they’re staying at and show up? Yeah that would be way weird, let’s not do that. _ Newton paced around, taking laps from his office to the water fountain, to the coffee machine, and back again. He needed Mako to get there that instant or he was going to collapse.

Pentecost, Mako in tow, found Newt on his third restless game of minesweeper. 

“Woah, look who it is!” Newt stood up so he could take Mako’s backpack.

“Mako has homework to do, Dr. Geiszler.”

“Homework first, of course, of course.” 

“Right, I’m off then.” Pentecost knelt down to look at Mako, “Be good for Dr. Geiszler. Homework first, young lady.” She nodded and waited until the door was closed to turn to Newt. 

“Godzilla?”

“Uh, sounds like you’ve got some homework to take care of first, dude.”

“But I want to read Godzilla.”

“Listen, dude, you gotta do your homework or your dad won’t let me babysit you again, so...no more Godzilla.”

“Please, Dr. Newt? Please?” She pouted. 

“Okay, okay, how about you do half of it and we read some Godzilla?” Mako wriggled in her seat with excitement.

“Or,” he pretended to look out the window for potential spies, “you get all your homework done and I show you Mothra early.” Mako gasped.

“Yes, yes, yes I want to see Mothra!” 

“Well, let’s get working then!” Newt put on some mood music that would scandalize Marshal Pentecost as she got through her workbook, helping her along the way. Newt was more than a little proud that Mako took to him so much and was on a fast track to becoming Pentecost’s little anarchist. And so what if he more than encouraged it when her father wasn’t looking? Mako finished her workbook around two hours before Stacker was set to pick her up from his office. Newt gave her a small comic book to bide her time with as he popped some popcorn in the break room and returned to start Mako’s deep foray into kaiju comics. 

* * *

Hermann was beyond nervous during his landing. The pressure from the descent felt symbolic; he was finally taking a plunge into another chapter of his life. He chided himself silently for his dramaticism. It is true that the descent was very much like this journey for him. It felt like a deadly plunge to him, but for anyone else it was mundane and controlled. The world was not ending; in fact it was not changing at all. It kept moving, spinning endlessly, and Hermann needed to get his feet on the ground.

The arduous process of disembarking and getting to the hotel kept him distracted until the very moment Hansen bid his temporary farewell at the hotel room door. He had twenty minutes to himself before he needed to get to the first dinner, which was about fifteen minutes too long for a man like himself. I wonder how Newton is doing. With no way to check, he sat by the window, mulling over how they had never been closer than this moment. 

While picking at the fancy food at his fancy table, Hermann was struck with the realization that he had never been so lonely in a room so full, bustling with Lieutenant Hansen lookalikes and their wives. It was like he was back at his cafe window, at the fringe of many lives, but this time Hermann could not claim any heritage to these people. There weren’t many people in the room using a cane, and those few were also adorned with medals and ranks to remind you exactly how they lost their legs. Hermann did not have any medals to wear, but he did feel their weight against his cane.  

He sipped a glass of white wine slowly, taking care not to overdrink. He wasn’t presenting anything tonight, but the fear of saying something stupid while sober was overwhelming enough. Not like anyone was talking to him anyways. He sat alone amidst the crowd until Lieutenant Hansen appeared through a gap, a dark-skinned military man in tow. The other man, quite tall and formidably built, had a stern but very handsome face. 

“Hermann, I’d like you to meet Marshal Stacker Pentecost. Stacker, this is Dr. Gottlieb.” Pentecost offered him a hand.

“Dr. Gottlieb, it’s a pleasure.”

“Oh, um, nice to meet you, Marshal.”

“I’ve been anticipating your presentation. I gave Herc quite a bit of grief for taking you first.”

“Oh.” Hermann was out of his depth. So there was some secret battle for his research? 

No one had ever fought over him before. 

“I wasn’t aware my project had such a reach of interest.” Lieutenant Hansen laughed and clapped him on the back.

“Humble to a fault, this one. He’d have you thinking anyone could write programs like him.” 

“Humility is a virtue, Dr. Gottlieb, but I do hope you won’t sell yourself short during the presentation. It’s what most of this crowd is here for.”

“Really?”

“Hansen wasn’t lying then. Humble to a fault. Your program is of international interest, now.” Herc took his leave to get another drink, leaving him with the intimidating marshal. 

“You seem tense, Dr. Gottlieb,” Pentecost observed aloud, “are you nervous?”

“Um…” Hermann wasn’t one to divulge, well anything really, but the sincerity of his host was oddly assuring, or perhaps commanding. “This really isn’t my kind of crowd.” Stacker nodded thoughtfully.

“I heard from Herc you defended your thesis last year, correct?”

“I did.”

“Successfully.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, Dr. Gottlieb, imagine you’re defending another thesis in front of a crowd with no expertise. No one will know if you slip up as long as you don’t make it known.”

“Right, that’s...thank you.” His superior returned with two glasses of wine, handing one to his friend who thanked him before leaving to catch someone moving through the crowd.

“So, have you two worked together before?” Hermann was curious how his Australian now British superior knew this British now American agent. 

“Ah, yeah I worked with Stacker way back in the 90’s in Somalia. That’s where we met first and for longest but uh we’ve were stationed together a few times, you know in Japan, Hong Kong, Nicaragua, the like.”

“Oh, so you were both military?”

“That’s right. But we’ve settled down into desk jobs now. We’ve both got kids, so they did us a favor there.”

“Right.” Hermann turned his gaze back to Pentecost who, even in at a soiree, kept a strong posture and a keen alertness around the room.  _ What’s an exmilitary man like that doing with a man like Newton? _

 

In the end, Pentecost was right. Hermann’s anxiety fought hard to derail his performance, but the starstruck faces of the countless soldiers and agents gave him an unfamiliar confidence.  _ They actually think I’m smart. They actually think this program will work. They think I’m a genius. _ To his own surprise, he took questions happily, and many hands went up. Hermann had never heard applause like that for himself. Lieutenant Hansen greeted him with a warm hug backstage.

“Well done, Hermann. And to think you were nervous!” Hermann huffed out a bit of a laugh. 

“To be honest, I don’t really know how I did it.” Herc scoffed.

“Always humble.” 

After shaking hand after hand and entertaining even more questions, Hermann finally escaped to the street to get a taxi to the restaurant. 

* * *

Newt felt like he should be awarded some kind of service award for turning his office into a movie fort. A sliver of light escaped from the sheets he had taped to the windows so Mako could watch  _ Emperor’s New Groove _ on his desktop monitor in peace. And so what if he was doing this during work hours? Really, Pentecost should be paying him for his service, so it all evened out in the end.

And so what if he fed Mako a diet of popcorn and hot cocoa while she was here? She always had vegetables with her lunch so, again, Newt thought it evened out. 

Having Mako around ruled, Newt decided. It almost (almost) made him a bit sentimental for having kids of his own.  _ Woah, okay that’s a bit heavy for me _ . Tendo was already on his back for settling down to a government job and lusting after nerdy academics. Newt was dangerously close to stepping both feet into a suburban death wish. 

Suddenly, three swift knocks came on his door. 

“Oh shit, this soon?” Newt said aloud before he grimaced at his swearing. Light flooded into his makeshift movie theater as he opened the door for Marshal Pentecost, who looked very unimpressed with the scene. 

“Is your homework done, Mako?” She nodded, still transfixed by the movie, with a handful of popcorn on route to her mouth. Pentecost cleared his throat and Mako begrudgingly stood and got her belongings together. 

“Thank you again, Dr. Geiszler,” he rushed off with Mako in hand, closing the door hard, and suddenly Newt was alone with the din of the movie echoing in his empty office. He tore down the sheets and moved the chairs back into position. He checked the clock and elected to take an early leave as payment for babysitting so he could get ready for the meeting. 

Under the technicolor neon of the diner, one of his favorite places since moving to Quantico, Newt bounced his leg under a booth. There were a thousand different voices in his head at the moment, mostly the voice of “fuck-and-run” Newt and Tendo battling it out. 

_ He’s gonna hate you and you gotta ditch. _

_ You can’t ditch man, you always do. You have to do this.  _

Newt swore under his breath, trying to calm down. He barely managed to refuse a coffee, settling with just water for the sake of his pounding heart, but he could have fooled himself. 

_ He’ll hate you.  _

_ He’s stuck with you for a year. _

_ He stuck with cyber Newt. He’ll hate real Newt.  _

_ You don’t know that.  _

The conversation dragged on and on for an eternity, reaching peaks with every chime of the front door. 

The bells chimed again and Newt saw a tall figure with an undercut and his heart threatened to stop. Just like that, Hermann walked into his space, his real world and Newt was not ready. Hermann was much more put together than his photo. He was in an actual suit, hair combed and smooth. He looked taller, even resting on his cane, and more handsome than Newt could handle. He must have looked like a dumbass just staring at Hermann, not saying a thing, but he caught on quickly enough. 

“Newton?” Newt nodded and grinned while he stuck his hand out.  _ Oh no, he wasn’t supposed to be hot like this. He was supposed to be nerdy hot _ . 

“Hey man, it’s…” he trailed off.  _ Get it the fuck together right now. _ Newt wasn’t sure if that was his conscious or Tendo. Hermann looked at him strangely. “...it’s good to meet you finally.” Hermann finally smiled.  _ Oh my God, he hates me. _

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

 

It wasn’t really a place Hermann would have picked out himself, but perhaps it was the level of Americana that was off putting. The neon lights were just a bit tacky to him, as were the nylon booths and the checkerboard floors. It was definitely what he expected Newton to pick. 

The bell above the door chimed and a dark haired man straightened up and stared at him through his thick glasses. His face was familiar, but unexpected. From his MySpace photos, Hermann expected Newton to be stuck in an eternal grin, white teeth flashing and eyes squinting, but not today. Newton stared at him, almost gaping, and Hermann felt a punch of anxiety.  _ Am I really that ugly looking today? _

“Newton?” The muscle memory of the day took over and Hermann extended his hand. Newton finally smiled and a wave of heat overtook him.  _ Oh dear, he’s too handsome for me _ . 

“Hey man, it’s…”  _ He regrets coming here, doesn’t he? _ “...it’s good to meet you finally.”  _ Relax and smile like you’ve done all day.  _

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He lowered himself to sit and Newton just kept staring in silence. 

“Um...sorry, I just...I’ve kind of been freaking out about this all day and I...yeah, sorry.”

“Well, I’ll admit I was nervous as well.” 

“You...I didn’t think you’d have that accent?”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I thought you’d sound more German but you sound British to me. Uh, no offence.”

“Oh, I suppose, and no offense taken. I’ve been learning english from English tutors for a long time. You sound more American than I expected.” Newton laughed nervously.

“Yeah, I moved pretty young I guess.” The noise settled into a long silence between them. 

“So, uh...how do you like Virginia? I mean, I know you probably haven’t seen any of D.C. yet.”

“It’s much warmer than I expected and very...humid.” Hermann pet his frizzing hair down.

“Yeah, well this whole area is basically a swamp so that tends to happen.”

“But no, I haven’t seen much in the area.” There was another moment of silence as Newt tried to process his next move. Do I offer to take him places?  _ Will he even have time? Does he even want to spend time with me? What do I do? Do I deflect? _

“Oh, shit how could I forget? How was the presentation?” Hermann winced internally. Newton really did swear in real life as much as he did online.

“Oh, right. Well it went much better than I expected.”

“Awesome, dude! I knew you could do it.”

“I’m really not the best speaker, usually, but I received some very good advice before and I think it made the difference.”

“What was that?”

“That the audience had no idea what I was talking about so no one would know if I was wrong.” Newton laughed.

“Hey, that’s pretty good. No offense to them, but pretty much everyone at Langley has a head full of sand so that’s not far off.” He raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh,” Newton ducked his head and rubbed at the back of his neck, “just, you know they’re kind of meatheads there is all. Not like the FBI is any different but...well…”

“I thought it was the Central  _ Intelligence  _ Agency?”

“I mean, anyone can hear something. Not everyone can investigate. They just, you know, wiretap and surveille us and other scummy things like that.” Hermann flushed again, this time in offense.

“It seems you have a general distaste for counterintelligence.”

“Um, yeah because I’m not dumb.”  _ Oh god why did I say it like that? _

“Do you think I’m dumb, Newton?”

“What? No, you’re mad smart. But I mean, a lot of smart people support weird stuff.”

“Excuse me?” It was Newton’s turn to flush. 

“Uh, that’s not what I meant. That sounded bad. I just...I mean of course a lot of intelligence is needed to make these things but…”

“But…?” 

“Uh, forget I said anything.” Hermann knew that he should back down like he usually would, but something drove him to fight this time. Perhaps it was his enduring confidence from the presentation or the ghost of his father rearing itself.

“But you’re fine in the FBI? That doesn’t make much sense to me.”

“I’m like tangentially in the FBI. I don’t spy on people.”

“We report to the same people. Stacker Pentecost works with my superior. Anything you find gets reported to him.”

“So Stacker knows about a bunch of false alien sightings, so what?”

“Don’t you find drug labs all the time? You report them. That’s surveillance.”

“What? That’s not - ugh. Anyone could stumble on that and report it. If I was still an independent zoologist, I’d have still found them.”

“But would you have reported them?”

“What? I...I don’t know, I guess it depends on if they shoot at me. But don’t you find that program a little creepy? Or invasive?”

“It could save thousands of lives, so no.”

“Oh, so there are suddenly no problems with combing through phone records and private communication? Your program wouldn’t single out people of certain races or religions?”

“No, not if it runs correctly.”

“But will it? That’s what everyone says, you know it’s not a big deal if you have nothing to hide. But that’s never how it works. You don’t have anything sensitive in your communications?”

“I do not.”

“Oh, really? So you’d be fine if someone sent our messages to your father?”

“Do not-” Hermann started sharply, stopping himself to breathe, “do not talk about him like you know him.” He stood up, his blood pumping and anger spiking, and continued, “I don’t need to defend myself to you. Coming here was clearly a mistake, so I’ll leave you with the rest of your night.” 

Hermann turned away quickly so Newton wouldn’t see him fighting back tears, ashamed at how the events played out, angry at Newton for his words, angry at himself for being upset. He wasn’t one to be rash like that. He was never a fighter. But something about Newton and his protests dug under his skin quicker than anything ever had and he did not like that feeling. He walked out and towards a hotel shuttle a few blocks away. The neon sign flared against the windows as they pulled away and Hermann sighed as the colors washed over his face. 

* * *

 

Newt swallowed back protest in his throat. There wasn’t much to think about for once, as only voice could speak.

_ Of course you messed it up.  _

He flagged a waitress for a coffee and took it outside in a paper cup so he could smoke. The lights of the suburbs twinkled in the distance all around and muddied the sky with an orange fog. He itched to get away out to where he could see the stars and a clear moon. He itched to leave, to run and hide amidst the leaves.

Ten minutes later, Newt was on the highway, driving too fast with music much too loud. It had taken some time to settle on music morose enough for his mood, eventually settling on Hole. The hot, heavy Virginia air rushed in from the windows as he sped off to nowhere in particular. 

The trip spanned over miles and miles of dark road and median jungles until he found a place to pull over in a tobacco field. It wasn’t Patagonia out here, still kissed by the lights of the cities, but it was enough for tonight. He laid out on the hood of his car with his pack of American Spirits and counted all the constellations he could see and counted them again when he was done. He had wanted to take Hermann out here, but that would never happen.  _ All because I have to run my stupid mouth all the time. _

He counted again, and again, and again.  _ Aquila. Cygnus. Cassiopeia. Cepheus. Draco. Hercules. Lyra. Ophiuchus. Sagittarius. Scorpius. Ursa Major. Ursa Minor.  _ But even the stars were ruined tonight. When Hermann told him about his trip, months ago now, Newt imagined this very scene with his friend beside him. 

_ Aquila. Cygnus. Cassiopeia. Cepheus. Draco. Hercules. Lyra. Ophiuchus. Sagittarius. Scorpius. Ursa Major. Ursa Minor.  _ They would take turns pointing to sky, shoulder to shoulder on the hood of his car. Maybe their hands would brush like the rows of rustling leaves. Maybe they would have even kissed, if he was lucky. _ If I wasn’t so unlovable. _ All they had done was shake hands. Newt could still feel the embrace on his fingers. It should have been so much more. He flexed his hand, every segment of each finger, and felt a year slip away in minutes.

 

At the closing dinner, Hermann, for the first time in his life, got a little careless with the champagne. He could never understand why anyone would take a chance with alcohol at a work function, especially something as important as this, but it was a revelation. Hermann was a considerably social drunk. He shook hands and listened without a complaint. He could even tell stories without tripping over his words. 

Regardless of his social success, it was unlike him to indulge like this. 

“Glad to see you out of your shell, Hermann.” Lieutenant Hansen commented.

“I think I needed the courage.” He joked back. But it was true that he needed the courage that day, for he woke up with a keen emptiness in his gut, a hunger for something lost.

A shimmer of neon light danced off the airport shuttle window as they passed the diner, early the next morning. Hermann watched as it retreated, leaving a long and empty stretch of road and ocean for home.

* * *

Tendo lived in an upper level apartment carved out of an old colonial house on the road to D.C., which is where Newt found himself on that Saturday afternoon. He knocked and fanned himself from the heat.

“Newt? What’s up my man? I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, I…”

“Here, come in, I’m not doing anything right now.” They ducked into his apartment and Newt took his usual seat on his couch amidst embroidered pillows and blankets. Tendo was by far the cleanest of Newt’s close friends and even had a talent for decorating. It was no secret between them that Tendo hosted everything as, in his own words, Newt’s apartment depressed him.

“So, how was meeting your man?”

“Terrible.” He replied immediately. 

“Oh…” Tendo sat on the other side of the couch, “what the hell happened?”

“You know, the usual Newt being abrasive thing. I kind of offended him by getting self-righteous about government surveillance and I may have gotten really personal about it.” Tendo sighed for him and patted him on the shoulder. 

“I’m not going to tell you I told you so-”

“Too late for that.”

“But! But I’m just saying that you gotta slow down and like...I don’t know, think before you speak.” Newt returned the sigh.

“I know, man! I know, I just got carried away I guess.”

“You don’t have to be ‘right’ all the time. Sometimes you just gotta let people be.”

“I know. Dude, believe me. I know everything that’s wrong with me. But it’s too late now.”

“Is it too late? Apologize to him. You always think it’s too late, right?”

“I mean, I think he’s leaving today so it is…”

“But is it really too late is what I’m saying. If you keep running, there’s gonna be like no one left to be your friend.”

“He said that it was  _ clearly  _ a mistake to see me. I don’t think he wants to hear from me.” 

“Well, what’s the worst thing that could happen? Sounds like he’s gonna ignore you if you don’t and the worst he could do is ignore you if you do.” Newt grimaced; it was his nature to cut and run and not pay a thought to everyone he had left behind. But there was something about Hermann that made him think twice. 

“Here,” Tendo stood up, “how about I get you a beer or three and we see how you feel?”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” But Newt didn’t think any liquid courage would help him here. Hermann was outside his world of liquor fueled sex and fights and flakiness. Hermann deserved better than a drunken apology from an interloper like him. Hermann just deserved better. 

* * *

  
AMERICAN AIRLINES 

IAD (WASHINGTON DLLS) to LHR (LONDON HTHRW) 

9:05AM DEPARTURE           ETA 10PM GreenwichMT

ADULT TICKET, COACH

NAME: Gottlieb, HERMANN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zoinks


End file.
